Predator Press Interviews: Joyce Hopewell
Predator Press
Joyce Hopewell enters the studio, and I am immediately freaked out: she's wearing flowing long white sungod-esque robes and a leafy Caesar headband woven in delicate strands of gold.
Without word, she sits.
Joyce Hopewell: It's nice to see you too, LOBO. I'm fine.
LOBO: Joyce! How nice to see you again. How have you been?
Joyce Hopewell: I require no assistance.
LOBO: Would you like one of our techs to hook you up so we can begin the interview?
[A headset microphone floats toward her, and the switchboard modulators adjust themselves noisily.]
Joyce Hopewell: LOBO, you haven't gotten that mole checked out yet, have you?
LOBO: I don't go for all that medical hocus-pocus stuff. God is real strict about witchcraft. He throws all those heathens in a vat of flaming acid for 10,000 years ... and speaking of Eternal Damnation, how is this whole 'Astrology' thing going for you?
Joyce Hopewell: I have gained knowledge and wisdom of things your tiny, callow mind could never appreciate.
LOBO: Wow. So how do you get those butterflies to keep fluttering around you? All I get is regular flies.
Joyce Hopewell: Seriously. You need to get that mole checked out.
LOBO: I read the post where you did a Chart on Ricky Hatton, the Champion Boxer. I thought it was great. What could you reveal about me?
Joyce Hopewell: You want me to do your chart?
LOBO: No. I mean if I fought Ricky Hatton.
Joyce Hopewell: He would kill you.
LOBO: Seriously? At his age?
Joyce Hopewell: You know your plan to mug Santa Christmas Eve?
LOBO: Yeah.
Joyce Hopewell: Santa will kill you.
LOBO: Dammit!
Joyce Hopewell: Do you want to know what happens next time you forget to feed Phil?
LOBO: What?
Joyce Hopewell: She will kill you. And Phil is a girl by the way.
LOBO: Really? I was just giving Phil his privacy.
Joyce Hopewell: You've had her for three years.
LOBO: You are joking, right?
Joyce Hopewell: LOBO, Phil has nipples.
LOBO: I have nipples.
Joyce Hopewell: Eight of them?
LOBO: Maybe it's a gene defect. I could easily have them removed by the vet.
Joyce Hopewell: Speaking of medical attention, would you please get that mole checked out?
LOBO: What mole?
Joyce Hopewell: Stop thinking about Britney Spears.
LOBO: There's nothing more depressing than your first Christmas after a divorce. And now her sister is pregnant too.
Joyce Hopewell: Her sister isn't pregnant.
LOBO: You mean on top of all that, her uterus is busted?
Joyce Hopewell enters the studio, and I am immediately freaked out: she's wearing flowing long white sungod-esque robes and a leafy Caesar headband woven in delicate strands of gold.Without word, she sits.
Joyce Hopewell: It's nice to see you too, LOBO. I'm fine.
LOBO: Joyce! How nice to see you again. How have you been?
Joyce Hopewell: I require no assistance.
LOBO: Would you like one of our techs to hook you up so we can begin the interview?
[A headset microphone floats toward her, and the switchboard modulators adjust themselves noisily.]
Joyce Hopewell: LOBO, you haven't gotten that mole checked out yet, have you?
LOBO: I don't go for all that medical hocus-pocus stuff. God is real strict about witchcraft. He throws all those heathens in a vat of flaming acid for 10,000 years ... and speaking of Eternal Damnation, how is this whole 'Astrology' thing going for you?
Joyce Hopewell: I have gained knowledge and wisdom of things your tiny, callow mind could never appreciate.
LOBO: Wow. So how do you get those butterflies to keep fluttering around you? All I get is regular flies.
Joyce Hopewell: Seriously. You need to get that mole checked out.
LOBO: I read the post where you did a Chart on Ricky Hatton, the Champion Boxer. I thought it was great. What could you reveal about me?
Joyce Hopewell: You want me to do your chart?
LOBO: No. I mean if I fought Ricky Hatton.
Joyce Hopewell: He would kill you.
LOBO: Seriously? At his age?
Joyce Hopewell: You know your plan to mug Santa Christmas Eve?
LOBO: Yeah.
Joyce Hopewell: Santa will kill you.
LOBO: Dammit!
Joyce Hopewell: Do you want to know what happens next time you forget to feed Phil?
LOBO: What?
Joyce Hopewell: She will kill you. And Phil is a girl by the way.
LOBO: Really? I was just giving Phil his privacy.
Joyce Hopewell: You've had her for three years.
LOBO: You are joking, right?
Joyce Hopewell: LOBO, Phil has nipples.
LOBO: I have nipples.
Joyce Hopewell: Eight of them?
LOBO: Maybe it's a gene defect. I could easily have them removed by the vet.
Joyce Hopewell: Speaking of medical attention, would you please get that mole checked out?
LOBO: What mole?
Joyce Hopewell: Stop thinking about Britney Spears.
LOBO: There's nothing more depressing than your first Christmas after a divorce. And now her sister is pregnant too.
Joyce Hopewell: Her sister isn't pregnant.
LOBO: You mean on top of all that, her uterus is busted?
Comments
You go get that mole checked before it undergoes a radical transformation. As for the butterflies, I've always had an affinity with them. They are symbols of transformation. As are frogs.